When I met 📝The Big Cheese, he was a 25-year-old entrepreneur and angel investor with two multi-million dollar exits under his belt and in the process of starting appeared to be his third.
One day, while out to lunch with the team, we found ourselves sharing stories of the foods we couldn't bring ourselves to ingest. Foods with textures, tastes, or traumas that prevented them from entering our mouths without triggering nausea... or worse.
Big Cheese—the evaluative type—had been quietly eating his lunch at the end of the table, but spoke up and volunteered this story...
"One time, when I was in Vegas, we were out at some club and my friend let it slip to me that he had a similar disagreement with mayonnaise. He told us that the mere idea of it made him queasy and if it was in his presence... he'd gag.
So, sometime later, I snuck away and called the hotel where we were saying. I said, "I need you to get every jar of mayonnaise you have and put it in this guy's room. Stack jars on the counter, line them up on the floor, put some on a plate and leave it on his bed. Just fill this dude's room with as much mayonnaise as possible."
And so they did.
When we got back to the hotel my friend opened his door and instantly projectile vomited across an endless sea of mayonnaise. He was so distraught that even once it was cleaned up... he still needed to move to a different room; the memory of what was once there was just too traumatic."
It was at this point in the story where Big Cheese—knowing I too was a prankster—looked me in the eye and said with a disturbingly calm demeanor, "best four thousand dollars I've ever spent."
Thus the term "Mayonnaise Money" was born. That aspirational point in your life when you have enough money that spending a few thousand dollars to fuck with a friend won't prevent you from paying your rent or saving for retirement (which you should do).
If you buy enough of these... I just might have mine.
For more context, see: 📝Dick Pics